


Under the Table (Or Desk)

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: SPN AU Bingo Fills [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breeding, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Dominant Sam, Exhibitionism, F/M, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Submissive Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 19:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: Office sex. That's all.Betaed by @manawhaat





	Under the Table (Or Desk)

You startle when someone knocks on your closed office door, frantically smoothing your blouse down until you’re presentable. “Come in!” you call, hoping whoever it is doesn’t stay long. Your pussy clenches at the thought of being caught, though, and you have to force yourself to breathe deeply.

The door opens and Charlie enters, armed with a thick stack of files. “I have the reports you requested,” she says. “I would’ve given them to Sam, but he’s not at his desk.”

 _Hmm, I wonder why_ , you think, more than a little sarcastic even within the confines of your own brain.

“He went to get us lunch,” you explain instead, feeling a soft chuckle against your slick pussy moments before a powerful finger worms its way into you, curling to press against a particularly sensitive spot inside. You bite your lip to keep back what was shaping up to be either a moan or a squeak. You gesture to a spot on the corner of your desk that you cleared off earlier after you emailed Charlie about the reports. “You can just leave those there and I’ll get them sorted later. Thank you so much, Charlie.”

She puts the stack where you designated. “When Sam comes back, can you ask if he’d be willing to check on the printer down the hall? I.T. is backed up with that whole shutdown on the second floor and I think the printer is jammed. I know he’s a receptionist, not I.T., but he’s better than most of them anyways.”

“I’ll ask him,” you assure her, trying not to squirm when the finger becomes two, twisting and stretching and prodding at all your sweet spots.

“Thanks!” she chirps, already leaving. Thankfully she shuts the office door behind her.

When you’re sure she’s gone, you sit back in your chair and look under your desk. Sam blinks up at you from between your spread thighs, grinning wickedly as his tongue flicks over your clit.

“You couldn’t have made that easier for me?” you ask, pushing your hips forward even as you complain.

He chuckles again and backs off a little, bringing his thumb around to rub your clit. “I knew you could take it. Such a good girl,” he coos, moving down to suck on your folds around his questing fingers. “She didn’t suspect a thing.”

“I should hope not,” you reply, trying to keep your breathing steady. “We might be married, but we could still get in a lot of trouble for this.”

“Oh, baby girl.” Sam kisses your clit and wraps one arm around your thigh, leaving his other hand free to continue pressing ridiculously long fingers into your dripping hole. “Just stay good and quiet for me, and no one will ever know.”

Yeah, that’s easier said than done, especially when he instructs you to close all the blinds, put up the “Do Not Disturb” sign you use for your lunch breaks or meetings, and lock the door, lower half still bare for all the world to see. When you return to your desk, you find Sam sitting in your chair, stroking his cock where it sticks out of his open zipper. He’s unbuttoned his shirt and it hangs open, perfectly framing his defined chest and abs.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he says, beckoning you over to straddle his lap. He scoots the chair around so you can lean back against the desk, facing up at him. “Sink down for me, slow and easy.”

His cock is huge, forcing its way inside your body. The way it stretches you open is like nothing you’ve felt with any other man. Just one of the many perks of being Sam Winchester’s wife, you suppose. Twenty-four/seven access to his horse cock.

“Fuck,” you gasp, struggling to keep your head upright. Sam likes to look you in the eyes when he fucks you. “Sam, please-”

“Shh,” he murmurs, hands already working open your blouse and shoving it off your shoulders. Your bra goes next and suddenly you’re down to just your stockings and heels, otherwise naked against Sam’s mostly-clothed body. He doesn’t take any time to explore, instead setting your feet on either side of his hips and putting his hands on your waist. “Want to watch you fuck yourself, sweetheart.”

When you don’t move immediately, he smacks your ass. The sting of it startles you, making you bite back a cry and flex your thighs, figuring out a way to use the position he’s put you in to your advantage. You can’t move far or too hard, but eventually you find a steady rhythm that doesn’t threaten to knock you off Sam’s lap. He sits back and watches, eyes glued to where his cock stretches you open. You do your best to be quiet, but there’s only so much you can do when he hits every sweet spot just by being inside you. It really doesn’t help that Sam’s apparently in the mood for talking.

“Doing so good,” he says. “Such a good little slut for me, right, baby? You like this, like knowing anyone could come along and hear us. Maybe someone already has. Maybe someone’s standing right outside that door, listening to you riding my cock.” He spanks your ass a few times, alternating sides to even out the pink. “My sweet little slut. Maybe I’ll take you out to the club this weekend, show the whole world what a whore my wife is. How does that sound?”

“You would do that?” you breath, trying to not sound as hopeful as you are.

“If you feel up to it.” His serious, caring side is slipping through now. “I don’t want to wear you out to much. If we go, we’ll have to take it easy on Sunday.”

You grin up at him. “Don’t you remember what this Sunday is?”

His brow furrows a moment before realization dawns in his eyes. “It’s Mother’s Day.”

You nod, reaching up to pull him in for a sloppy kiss. “You better spend it making me a mother, then.”

Sam’s grin is wild and so fucking sexy as he surges to his feet, shoving your body up onto the desk purely by the raw power in his hips against your pelvis. “How about I start now?”


End file.
